Chapter Text
Frank Iero was rich. Disgustingly rich. His family came from money, as did his wife Jamia's, though there was one key difference the two held in relation to their wealth. Jamia? The money went to her head. She, unfortunately, acted as rich as she was. She went to galas, she bought nothing but designer clothes and shoes and everything, and she only went out to places that needed a paid-in-advance reservation. If anyone was to get into shady circles because of their wealth, it was Jamia.
Frank, on the other hand? He had been famous, once, had given up his life of rock shows and fame for a quiet life producing other people's music. He'd go to maybe a party or two a year with his wife, take her out to those expensive restauraunts, but really? He wanted to be at home playing music. Sometimes he wondered when this had happened, when their personalities and tastes had shifted so drastically, when he had lost his wife to her wealth.
The final straw came on Frank's birthday. He had just turned thirty-three, and the small get-together had wound down to just Frank and Jamia. It was about midnight- six past, actually- when Jamia recieved a call.
"Hello?" Her voice was hushed. "Oh, wonderful. Bring it to the garage. Around back. Gate should be unlocked."
Jamia stood and held her hand out for Frank to take. "I bought you something." Her voice was sweet, and her lips held a smile.
Frank looked at her in confusion, taking her hand and standing as well. "And it's getting delivered now?" He followed her through their large house- mansion, really- and down to the garage. They passed the cars and opened the garage doors.
There stood two men, one with a dolly with a very, very large object on it, covered in a tarp. The man with the dolly set it down, looking around warily like someone would be watching them, despite the fact that the house was nearly two miles from the road and four from any neighbors. The other man held his hand out and, oddly, Jamia began fishing around in her pockets.
"I thought you said you bought it already?" Frank whispered to her.
"Not really, it's a pay on arrival sort of thing." She pulled out a single band of money and handed it over to the man with his hand out. The two men gave her a nod and left, getting into what looked like a blank moving van and driving away.
Frank watched, flabbergasted. "What the fuck did you just pay a thousand dollars for?!"
Jamia rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush, it's barely anything." She walked over and lifted the tarp, grinning wildly. "Come look at it."
Frank sighed and walked over, looking under the tarp-
It was a cage.
There was a man inside.
Gerard… barely remembered his own name anymore. It was the only thing he remembered how to write, and thus he would write it with his finger over and over again. He did, however, feel the starvation. The gnawing, clawing feeling in the pit of his stomach, where it was begging for food. He wasn't too emaciated, thank god- the Master that owned him previously had fed him blood in more generous amounts than he was used to. But he was starving.
Oh, right- Gerard was a vampire. He had small fangs, ones that had been filed down when the adult teeth came in. His owners- Masters, he was ordered to call them- typically underfed him, keeping him weak so that he couldn't fight back.
He kneeled in his cage, using his index finger to write his name on the cold floor over and over again. He was in The Hall, a large corridor somewhere, he presumed, underground. His clothes were… cleaner than they would typically be. His last Master had been uncharacteristically generous for a Master and had given him new clothes, though never had him wash himself or the clothes so they were definitely dirty again. He simply wore a t-shirt and some sweatpants that were getting looser by the day.
A man walked over and tossed a tarp over the cage, shrouding Gerard in darkness. Gerard looked around for a moment, then went back to scribbling his name on the bottom of the cage.
A long while passed. He heard a lot of noises- people talking, doors opening and closing, the passage of items between hands. Eventually, he was shut inside of what he assumed to be a large… thing. He supposed 'truck' was the right word, but the 'trucks' he remembered from before all this didn't look quite the same. He didn't know very much, hadn't had the chance to learn all that much before he was taken and placed in the System.
The ride was long, but Gerard wasn't sure how long. He just sat there in the darkness, eyes closed as it made the whole situation easier to bear. Sometimes, he would try scrawling his name out again, but would give up upon realizing he couldn't exactly see where his hand was moving.
Finally, the truck stopped, the door opened, and he was wheeled out, tossed to the back of the cage by the dolly picking it up. He knew what was coming next- he would be wheeled inside, he would meet his new Master, and return to life as normal.
Once more, the cage was set down, there was the exchanging of items once more, and he heard the men retreat. He heard some angry whispering, then squinted his eyes when the tarp was lifted.
There was a woman, who had a small smile on her face. Not a comforting one- no, she saw him as a thing, that was for sure. Just like the rest, Gerard thought. No, it was the man behind her that confused him. The man had drawings all over his arms and neck, and had short, dark hair and some facial hair. He was broad and stocky, a build that Gerard would be afraid of, if not for the expression on his face.
The man was shocked, eyes wide and mouth agape. The woman looked back at him with a much larger smile than before, hoping to impress him. "I got us a servant! All he eats is raw meat, so he's low maintenance-"
"Get out." The man's voice was calm, but Gerard could tell he was holding something back.
The woman dropped the tarp, plunging Gerard back into darkness. "What? Why? All the folks at the country club have at least one-"
"Get. The fuck. Out." The man's voice was shaking a little bit now. "Text me where you're staying. I'll have my lawyer contact you."
"If I'm leaving, I'm bringing it with me," the woman said then- and Gerard had to assume it was her doing it- tried to drag the crate along with her, but the man stopped her.
"Absolutely not. You bought him, I can't trust you to not hurt him. Get the fuck out of my house, now."
After a few more minutes of arguing, there was some angry stomping, the slam of a car door, and the sound of tires screeching away. The cage was dragged along a few feet, then a garage door was activated, presumably shut. Then the tarp was dragged off all the way, completely revealing Gerard to the man.
He was skinny, as previously mentioned. He had big eyes that darted around the room, taking it all in. His hair was long and shaggy, cut unevenly, and a mousy brown color. He scooted back to the back of the cage, away from the man in front of him. They were alone now; it was time to be scared. Then, the man spoke.
"What the hell am I going to do with you?"